Harry Potter The Boy Who Lived Again!
by PadfootRidesAgain
Summary: After being struck by Voldemorts Killing Curse in the atrium after Sirius's death Harry gains a new power. One that could potentially even out the sides. Will be dimension travelling/time travel Super!Harry After some time obviously Good and Bad Dumbles
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:** _Power Unleashed_

"Harry – no!" cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grip.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM I'LL KILL HER!"

And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches; people were shouting behind him but he didn't care. The hem of Bellatrix's robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming.

She aimed a curse over her shoulder, and the tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within; the brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long colored tentacles, but he shouted, "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" and they flew off him up into the air.

Slipping and sliding, he ran on towards the door; he leapt over Luna, who was groaning on the floor, past Ginny, who said, "Harry – what –?", past Ron, who giggled feebly, and Hermione, who was still unconscious. He wrenched open the door into the circular black hall and saw Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room; beyond her was the corridor leading back to the lifts.

He ran, but she had slammed the door behind her and the walls were already rotating. Once more, he was surrounded by streaks of blue light from the whirling candelabra.

"Where's the exit?" he shouted desperately, as the wall rumbled to a halt again. "Where's the way out?"

The room seemed to have been waiting for him to ask. The door right behind him flew open and the corridor towards the lifts stretched ahead of him, torch-lit and empty, and he was off again running.

He could hear a lift clattering ahead; he sprinted up the passageway, swung around the corner and slammed his fist on to the button to call a second lift.

It jangled and banged lower and lower; the grilles slid open and Harry dashed inside, now hammering the button marked Atrium. The doors slid shut and he was rising up, towards Sirius' killer.

He forced his way out of the lift before the grilles were fully open and looked around. Bellatrix was almost at the telephone lift at the other end of the hall, but she looked back as he sprinted towards her and aimed another spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren, and the spell zoomed past him and hit the wrought gold gates at the other end of the Atrium so that they rang like bells. There were no more footsteps. She had stopped running. He crouched behind the statues, listening.

"Come out, come out, little Harry!" she called in her mock baby voice, which echoed off the polished wooden floors. "What did you come after me for, then? I thought you were here to avenge my dear cousin!"

"I am!" shouted Harry, and a score of ghostly Harry's seemed to chorus I am! I am! I am! all around the room.

"Aaaaaah…did you love him, little baby Potter?"

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before; he flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed, "_Crucio_!"

Bellatrix screamed: The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had – she was already back on her feet, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again. Her counter-spell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

"Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?" she yelled. She had abandoned her baby voice now. "You need to mean them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain – to enjoy it –righteous anger won't hurt me for long–I'll show you how it is done, shall I? I'll give you a lesson–"

Harry was edging around the fountain on the other side when she screamed, "_Crucio_!" and he was forced to duck down again as the centaur's arm, holding its bow, span off and landed with a crash on the floor a short distance from the golden wizard's head.

"Potter, you cannot win against me!" she cried.

He could hear her moving to the right, trying to get a clear shot of him. He backed around the statue away from her, crouching behind the centaur's legs, his head level with the house-elf's.

"I was and am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant. I learned the Dark Arts from him, and I know spells of such power that you, pathetic little boy, can never hope to compete!"

"_Stupefy_!" yelled Harry. He had edged right around to where the goblin stood beaming up at the now headless wizard and had taken aim at her back as she peered around the fountain. She reacted so fast he barely had time to duck.

"_Protego_!"

The jet of red light, his own Stunning Spell, bounced back at him. Harry scrambled back behind the fountain and one of the goblin's ears went flying across the room.

"Potter, I'm going to give you one chance!" shouted Bellatrix. "Give me the prophecy – roll it out towards me now – and I may spare your life!"

"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" Harry roared and, as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead; his scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage. "And he knows!'" said Harry, with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix's own. "Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it's gone! He's not going to be happy with you, is he?"

"What? What do you mean?" she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

"The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort'll say about that, huh?"

His scar seared and burned…the pain of it was making his eyes stream…

"LIAR!" she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. "YOU'VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME! _Accio prophecy_! _ACCIO PROPHECY_!"

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him.

"Nothing there!" he shouted. "Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that!"

"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true, you're lying! MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED – DO NOT PUNISH ME!"

"Don't waste your breath!" yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" said a high, cold voice.

Harry opened his eyes.

Tall, thin and black-hooded, his terrible snakelike face white and gaunt, his scarlet, slit-pupilled eyes staring…Lord Voldemort had appeared in the middle of the hall, his wand pointing at Harry who stood frozen, quite unable to move.

"So, you smashed my prophecy?" said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. "No, Bella, he is not lying…I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind…months of preparation, months of effort…and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again!"

"Master, I am sorry I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!" sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort's feet as he paced slowly nearer. "Master, you should know-"

"Be quiet, Bella," said Voldemort dangerously. "I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?"

"But Master – he is here – he is below."

Voldemort paid no attention.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Potter," he said quietly. "You have irked me too often, for too long. _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

Harry had not even opened his mouth to resist; his mind was blank, his wand pointing uselessly at the floor.

But the headless golden statue of the wizard in the fountain had sprung alive, leaping from its plinth to land with a crash on the floor between Harry and Voldemort, unfourtanately it was too slow and Voldemort watched with glee as the killing curse hit it's mark and blew Potter thirty feet in the air only for him to smash against the wall and slide down to the floor lifeless.

Voldemort's malicious laugh rang through the air as he turned to face the wizard who animated the statue.

"Dumbledore." He laughed, "How does if feel, knowing you failed to save the boy, Albus?" Considering Potter was finally killed, and right in front of Dumbledore he was feeling extremely charitable today, Dumbledore understandably was a little off kilter. In the background, Bellatrix's shriek of laughter could be heard.

Albus Dumbledore stood there for once his face plastered in shock as he saw that for the first time, old age had caught up with him. His reflexes had been a bit too slow, his animating had taken a bit too long, and now the poor fifteen year old boy had paid the price.

The two wizards and one insane witch froze as they heard a groan coming from the corpse on the ground. Voldemort's eyes flared insanely.

"NO! How can this be!" with out waiting for an answer his wand was out again and the curse once more left his lips.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

This time, Dumbledore didn't hesitate, his reflexes were faster than they ever had been and he quickly ordered the statue to take the curse no matter what. He didn't know _how_ Harry had survived the curse a second time, but he'd be damned if he would let him get hit again.

The golden statue of the wizard quickly stepped in between Voldemort and Harry, taking the spell which bounced off him and slammed into the wall causing a massive crater.

Harry groaned as he felt power surge through him. Dirty, _tainted_, _evil_ power. He knew that he was woefully lacking in power compared to Voldemort. He knew Voldemort had much more power than he had, and he knew he needed power if he was ever stand up to him. And this spell had power. By Merlin the Killing Curse had power!

His magic reacting, working by itself it worked quickly to integrate the power the curse had into itself. His magical core, already full to the brim, needed to expand, but it couldn't. Not without reshaping the body, the body the magical core was currently in was already stressed to max in trying to maintain the magical core, and the current power levels were woefully insufficient to create a suitable body.

If Dumbledore had let the second Killing Curse hit Harry, it is very possible, probable even that the Curse would have given all the remaining power needed to destroy the current body and rebuild one more suitable for itself. As it was however, the second Killing Curse didn't get anywhere near Harry and so the magical core was stuck doing the only other thing it could do with all the extra power that Harry _knew_ he needed yet didn't have room in his body for. It was given to his mind.

When Voldemort released the second Killing Curse, Harry's mind was immediately awash with the incantation, the theory behind the spell, and the proper wand movements on how to perform it.

Simply put, Harry learned the curse because he had seen Voldemort do it. His attention quickly focused on the golden statue, the animation charm was easily visible, for Harry that is, and the the wand movement, incantation and again theory was in his head, as if it had always been there. He barely noticed when Voldemort and Dumbledore started duelling more interested in the magics they were using as his mind quickly learned them whenever they were used.

It was amazing, he was actually learning high-level magic and it didn't take any effort. Upon seeing something done, he knew he could imitate it, as if he himself had been doing it for years. He came out of his daze when Voldemort disappeared, and Bellatrix shrieked "MASTER!"

Sure that the duel was over he stepped from behind the statue only for Dumbledore to yell at him.

"Stay where you are Harry!"

For the first time Dumbledore sounded frightened, and Harry was unsure why as the hall was empty aside from themselves, Bellatrix trapped beneath a statue sobbing away, and the baby form of Fawkes who was on the floor having taken a Killing Curse for Dumbledore.

And then Harry's scar burst open and he knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance.

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature's began: they were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape.

And when the creature spoke, it used Harry's mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move.

"Kill me now, Dumbledore…"

Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again…

"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…"

_Possession_, thought Harry, and quickly his mind responded, telling him how Voldemort did what he did, how possession worked and the exact theory behind it so that once again it felt like Harry had been doing it for years and he knew he could do it to someone else.

But more importantly, he learned how to fight it. His magic had responded and his mind was filled with the way on how to fight it. His memories flashed back to his pitiful Occlumencey lessons and and the art that had once seemed so complex was now so simple it was absurd.

It was so easy, as Harry understood the theory, the practicality, and _how_ to do it. He did. His mind closed off as he quickly built walls around cutting off the foriegn presence from his body, the creature's coils loosened, the pain was gone.

Harry was just able to see Voldemort re-appear and make for Bellatrix, and he reacted on instinct, his wand, which he didn't even realise was still in his hand, was quickly moving, and the words left his mouth before he could stop it, the hate searing at seeing his godfather's killer about to escape.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Absently he noticed Dumbledore's intake of breath in surprise but he ignored it to watch in glee as the curse hit Bellatrix, just as she disappeared. He threw his head back and laughed. _'Take that Voldemort!'_ he snarled in his mind, he may have gotten away but Bellatrix Lestrange was dead.

Drained, Harry collapsed.

There were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been. Harry opened his eyes, and saw his glasses lying by the heel of the headless statue that had been guarding him, but which now lay flat on its back, cracked and immobile. He put them on and raised his head a little to find Dumbledore's crooked nose inches from his own, his eyes devoid of any twinkle.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

"Yea." Harry said looking around. The Atrium was full of people, the floor was reflecting the emerald green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall; and streams of witches and wizards were emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin, leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.

"He was there!" shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped only moments before she was kiled. "I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!"

"I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!" gibbered Fudge, who was wearing pajamas under his pinstriped cloak and was gasping as though he had just run miles. "Merlin's beard – here – here! – in the Ministry of Magic! – great heavens above – it doesn't seem possible – my word – how can this be –?"

"If you proceed downstairs into the Department of Mysteries, Cornelius," said Dumbledore – apparently satisfied that Harry was all right, and walking forwards so that the newcomers realized he was there for the first time (a few of them raised their wands; others simply looked amazed; the statues of the elf and goblin applauded and Fudge jumped so much that his slipperclad feet left the floor) – "you will find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber, bound by an Anti-Disapparation Jinx and awaiting your decision as to what to do with them."

"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge, beside himself with amazement. "You-here-I-I"

He looked wildly around at the Aurors he had brought with him and it could not have been clearer that he was in half a mind to cry, "Seize him!"

"Cornelius, I am ready to fight your men – and win, again!" said Dumbledore in a thunderous voice. "But a few minutes ago you saw proof, with your own eyes, that I have been telling you the truth for a year. Lord Voldemort has returned, you have been chasing the wrong man for twelve months, and it is time – you listened to sense!"

"I – don't – well" blustered Fudge, looking around as though hoping somebody was going to tell him what to do. When nobody did, he said, "Very well – Dawlish! Williamson! Go down to the Department of Mysteries and see…Dumbledore, you – you will need to tell me exactly – the Fountain of Magical Brethren – what happened?" he added in a kind of whimper, staring around at the floor, where the remains of the statues of the witch, wizard and centaur now lay scattered.

"We can discuss that after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.

"Harry – Harry Potter?"

Fudge wheeled around and stared at Harry, who was still standing against the wall beside the fallen statue that had guarded him during Dumbledore and Voldemort's duel.

"He – here?" said Fudge, goggling at Harry. "Why – what's all this about?"

"I shall explain everything," repeated Dumbledore, "when Harry is back at school."

He walked away from the pool to the place where the golden wizard's head lay on the floor. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Portus."

The head glowed blue and trembled noisily against the wooden floor for a few seconds, then became still once more, Harry once more felt knowledge being dumped into his mind, but this time he was able to use his newfound Occlumencey to push it aside for later.

"Now see here, Dumbledore!" said Fudge, as Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry carrying it. "You haven't got authorization for that Portkey! You can't do things like that right in front of the Minister of Magic, you – you..."

His voice faltered as Dumbledore surveyed him magisterially over his half-moon spectacles.

"You will give the order to remove Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts," said Dumbledore. "You will tell your Aurors to stop searching for my Care of Magical Creatures teacher so that he can return to work. I will give you…" Dumbledore pulled a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and surveyed it…"half an hour of my time tonight, in which I think we shall be more than able to cover the important points of what has happened here. After that, I shall need to return to my school. If you need more help from me you are, of course, more than welcome to contact me at Hogwarts. Letters addressed to the Headmaster will find me."

Fudge goggled worse than ever; his mouth was open and his round face grew pinker under his rumpled grey hair.

"I – you"

Dumbledore turned his back on him.

"Take this Portkey, Harry."

He held out the golden head of the statue and Harry placed his hand on it, past caring what he did next or where he went.

"I shall see you in half an hour," said Dumbledore quietly "One…two…three…"

Harry felt the familiar sensation of a hook being jerked behind his navel. The polished wooden floor was gone from beneath his feet; the Atrium, Fudge and Dumbledore had all disappeared and he was flying forwards in a whirlwind of color and sound…

**A/N:**_ Okay the reason this chappie is soo long is cause most of it is taken from the Order of the Phoenix sooo dont go round expecting all of them to be this length. Once again PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF ANY MISTAKES! I'M A PERFECTIONIST sometimes. (shrugs) Next chapter explanations from Dumbledore to Harry (taken from Order of the Phoenix with a few changes.) and Harry to Dumbledore obviously more questions about his power than answers but... Happy Reading!!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: **_Machinations Unwound_

In one of the many slums of London, not too far away from Grimmauld Place, a shadowy figure hurried to the basement door of a well known to those who frequented the under-world, yet hidden well from anyone else.

Quickly, glancing around furtively, he knocked a complicated pattern on the door, one the had taken him a week to learn by heart, and swiftly opened the door closing it a second later behind him.

There was man sitting behind a table, his feet resting on it, a laptop just to the right of them and a cigar lazily dangiling from his mouth. The air was thick with smoke and the place was covered in cartons ranging from every size possible. His voice was rough and harsh.

"Waddya want!" he growled.

"To disappear and never be found." The man replied carefully, "I'm going to need it to be _very thorough_."

"Wheredya wanna hide?" The man took a moment to think it over before he shrugged, "Here." The man snarled, apparently that was not a good answer.

"Not many people come looking for a change of identity with a full background without leaving the country." The man warned, "If it gets back to me..." The guest paused thinking then replied,

"If your not good enough to cover your tracks maybe I should go to someone else."

"Are you questioning my ability!?" his hand was close to what the guest realised was a concealed weapon, he chose to sidestep the question. Inwardly he shuddered, he was playing a dangerous game.

"However," he said mildly, "The false identity will not be up to harsh scrutiny, I will be certain to stay _off the radar_ if you will for a while."

After a second, the hand moved away and once more rested on the table, the man however was still scowling. "It'll cost ya a pretty penny. Cash."

Without a word the guest pulled out two wads of bills, maybe a hundred bills in each wad, one of twenties and one of fifties. He threw them both on the table.

An hour later, the guest left becoming once more a figure in the shadows before dissapearing completely.

_Meanwhile..._

Harry's feet hit solid ground; his knees buckled a little and the golden wizard's head fell with a resounding dunk to the floor. He looked around and saw that he had arrived in Dumbledore's office.

Everything seemed to have repaired itself during the Headmaster's absence. The delicate silver instruments stood once more on the spindle-legged tables, puffing and whirring serenely the portraits of the headmasters and headmistresses were snoozing in their frames, heads lolling back in armchairs or against the edge of the picture, he noticed, absently, that knowledge was being dumped into his brain as he looked all the spells being employed around the room. For now, he ingnored it, looking out the window he saw cool line of pale green along the horizon; dawn was approaching.

The silence and the stillness, broken only by the occasional grunt or snuffle of a sleeping portrait, was unbearable to him. If his surroundings could have reflected the feelings inside him, the pictures would have been screaming in pain. He walked around the quiet, beautiful office, breathing quickly, trying not to think. But he had to think…there was no escape…

It was his fault Sirius had died; it was all his fault. If he, Harry, had not been stupid enough to fall for Voldemort's trick, if he had not been so convinced that what he had seen in his dream was real, if he had only opened his mind to the possibility that Voldemort was, as Hermione had said, banking on Harry's love of playing the hero…

It was unbearable, he would not think about it, he could not stand it…there was a terrible hollow inside him he did not want to feel or examine, a dark hole where Sirius had been, where Sirius had vanished; he did not want to have to be alone with that great, silent space, he could not stand it –

A picture behind him gave a particularly loud grunting snore, and a cool voice said, "Ah… Harry Potter…"

Phineas Nigellus gave a long yawn, stretching his arms as he surveyed Harry out of shrewd, narrow eyes.

"And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?" said Phineas eventually, "This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful Headmaster. Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me…" He gave another shuddering yawn. "Another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"

Harry could not speak. Phineas Nigellus did not know that Sirius was dead, but Harry could not tell him. To say it aloud would be to make it final, absolute, irretrievable. Harry decided to ignore him. Looking for something, _anything_ to distract himself with, he saw the Headmaster's Library and quickly, desperately, he grabbed a book and started reading.

He found another phenomenon to his new power. Anything he read, he understood, it took a little more than a glance and he had the theory and how to on everything. Wards constructed with Anceint Runes he had never studied before made sense. It was, to put simply, thrilling and he wondered briefly if this was why Hermione loved books. He himself could quickly learn to love them as well.

A few more of the portraits had stirred now, unnoticed by Harry who was absorbed in his reading.

"I hope this means," said the corpulent, red-nosed wizard who hung on the wall behind the Headmaster's desk, "that Dumbledore will soon be back among us?"

Harry jumped, the wizard was surveying him with great interest and he wondered for a second if he was allowed to read the books before he shrugged it off.

Harry nodded before going back to the book.

"Oh good," said the wizard. "It has been very dull without him, very dull indeed."

He settled himself on the throne-like chair on which he had been painted and smiled benignly upon Harry.

"Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, as I am sure you know," he said comfortably. "Oh yes, holds you in great esteem."

Harry ignored him and continued reading, the half hour was coming to a close he noticed in the back of his mind and he was only half way done with the book. That thought jerked him up. _Half way!?_ He had read half of a book, a very _thick_ Hermione type book, in half an hour? His reading speed seemed to have increased he thought dazedly.

The empty fireplace burst into emerald green flame, making Harry leap up from Dumbledore's chair, staring at the man spinning inside the grate. As Dumbledore's tall form unfolded itself from the fire, the wizards and witches on the surrounding walls jerked awake, many of them giving cries of welcome.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore softly.

He did not look at Harry at first, but walked over to the perch beside the door and withdrew, from an inside pocket of his robes, the tiny, ugly, featherless Fawkes, whom he placed gently on the tray of soft ashes beneath the golden post where the full-grown Fawkes usually stood.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, finally turning away from the baby bird, "you will be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."

Harry nodded his head but could not say anything. It seemed to him that Dumbledore was reminding him of the amount of damage he had caused, and although Dumbledore was for once looking at him directly, and although his expression was kindly rather than accusatory, Harry could not bear to meet his eyes.

"Madam Pomfrey is patching everybody up," said Dumbledore. "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems she will make a full recovery."

Harry contented himself with nodding at the carpet, which was growing lighter as the sky outside grew paler. He was sure all the portraits around the room were listening closely to every word Dumbledore spoke, wondering where Dumbledore and Harry had been, and why there had been injuries.

"There have only been two casualties, Harry one of which I am more sad than the other." Dumbledore said softly. His eyes, while still not accusatory, where filled with pain.

Harry didn't say anything, but glared hard at the floor. Somehow, he knew Dumbledore was talking about Bellatrix. He was right.

"It pains me to see you use that curse, may I ask where you learned it?"

Harry laughed bitterly.

"When something is used against you often enough, you quickly learn how to use it Dumlbedore."

He got no answer in reply, so he continued.

"Are you telling me," he said, voice shaking in anger and rage, "that you mourn Bellatrix more that you mourn S- S- my godfather!?" he couldn't say his name.

"I know how you're feeling, Harry," said Dumbledore very quietly, ignoring the question for now.

"No, you don't," said Harry, and his voice was suddenly loud and strong; white-hot anger leapt inside him; Dumbledore knew nothing about his feelings.

Harry turned his back on Dumbledore and stared determinedly out of the window. He could see the Quidditch stadium in the distance. Sirius had appeared there once, disguised as the shaggy black dog, so he could watch Harry play…he had probably come to see whether Harry was as good as James had been…Harry had never asked him…

"There is no shame in what you are feeling, Harry," said Dumbledore's voice. "On the contrary, the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."

Harry felt the white-hot anger lick his insides, blazing in the terrible emptiness, filling him with the desire to hurt Dumbledore for his calmness and his empty words, in his rage his newfound powers and knowledge were forgotten.

"My greatest strength, is it?" said Harry, his voice shaking as he stared out at the Quidditch stadium, no longer seeing it. "You haven't got a clue…you don't know…"

"What don't I know?" asked Dumbledore calmly.

It was too much. Harry turned around, shaking with rage.

"I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?"

"Harry, suffering like this proves you are still a man! This pain is part of being human"

"THEN – I – DON'T – WANT – TO – BE – HUMAN!" Harry roared his aura flaring out around him, causing many gasps around the room, and he seized the delicate silver instrument from the spindlelegged table beside him and flung it across the room; it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces against the wall.

Several of the pictures let out yells of anger and fright, and the portrait of Armando Dippet said,

"Really!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Harry yelled at them, snatching up a lunascope and throwing it into the fireplace. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH, I'VE SEEN ENOUGH, I WANT OUT, I WANT IT TO END, I DON'T CARE ANY MORE"

He seized the table on which the silver instrument had stood and threw that, too. It broke apart on the floor and the legs rolled in different directions.

"You do care," said Dumbledore.

He had not flinched or made a single move to stop Harry demolishing his office. His expression was calm, almost detached. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."

"I – DON'T!" Harry screamed, so loudly that he felt his throat might tear, and for a second he wanted to rush at Dumbledore and break him, too; shatter that calm old face, shake him, hurt him, make him feel some tiny part of the horror inside himself, his magic flared to his bidding and rushed at Dumbledore who stood there emotionless as his own aura flared out to protect him.

"Oh, yes, you do." said Dumbledore, still more calmly, ignoring the magical battle going on between them, "You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care."

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL!" Harry roared. "YOU – STANDING THERE – YOU"

But words were no longer enough, smashing things was no more help; he wanted to run, he wanted to keep running and never look back, his magic stopped the vicious asult on the Headmaster and returned to crackling around his body, he wanted to be somewhere he could not see the clear blue eyes staring at him, that hatefully calm old face. He turned on his heel and ran to the door, seized the doorknob again and wrenched at it.

But the door would not open. Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "Let me out," he said. He wasshaking from head to foot.

"No," said Dumbledore, simply. For a few seconds they stared at each other.

"Let me out," Harry said again.

"No," Dumbledore repeated.

"If you don't – if you keep me in here – if you don 't let me"

"By all means continue destroying my possessions," said Dumbledore serenely. "I daresay I have too many."

He walked around his desk and sat down, behind it, calmly marking the page Harry had been reading before closing the book and watching Harry.

"Let me out," Harry said yet again, in a voice that was cold and almost as calm as Dumbledore's.

"Not until I have had my say," said Dumbledore.

"Do you – do you think I want to – do you think I give a – I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY!" Harry roared. "I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"

"You will," said Dumbledore steadily. "Because you are not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing, I would like to have thoroughly earned it."

"What are you talking –?"

"It is my fault that Sirius died," said Dumbledore clearly.

"Or should I say, almost entirely my fault – I will not be so arrogant as to claim responsibility for the whole. Sirius was a brave, clever and energetic man, and such men are not usually content to sit at home in hiding while they believe others to be in danger. Nevertheless, you should never have believed for an instant that there was any necessity for you to go to the Department of Mysteries tonight.

If I had been open with you, Harry, as I should have been, you would have known a long time ago that Voldemort might try to lure you to the Department of Mysteries, and you would never have been tricked into going there tonight, and Sirius would not have had to come after you. That blame lies with me, and with me alone."

Harry was still standing with his hand on the doorknob but was unaware of it. He was gazing at Dumbledore, hardly breathing, listening yet barely understanding what he was hearing.

"Please sit down," said Dumbledore. It was not an order, it was a request.

Harry hesitated, then walked slowly across the room now littered with silver cogs and fragments of wood, and took the seat facing Dumbledore's desk, his aura flaring a few times and then disappearing causeing a few sighs from the watching portraits.

"Am I to understand," said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry's left, "that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?"

"Yes, Phineas," said Dumbledore.

"I don't believe it," said Phineas brusquely.

Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house…

"Harry, I owe you an explanation," said Dumbledore. "An explanation of an old man's mistakes. For I see now that what I have done, and not done, with regard to you, bears all the hallmarks of the failings of 

age. Youth cannot know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young…and I seem to have forgotten, lately…"

The sun was rising properly now; there was a rim of dazzling orange visible over the mountains and the sky above it was colorless and bright. The light fell upon Dumbledore, upon the silver of his eyebrows and beard, upon the lines gouged deeply into his face.

"I guessed, fifteen years ago," said Dumbledore, "when I saw the scar on your forehead, what it might mean. I guessed that it might be the sign of a connection forged between you and Voldemort."

"You've told me this before, Dumbledore," said Harry bluntly. He did not care about being rude. He did not care about anything very much any more, but he was welcoming the distraction and his mind was working on it, "Get to the point. Voldemort and I are connected. Why did he come after me?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore apologetically. "Yes, that is where I was going – and you asked me that very same question exactly four years ago."

"I know," said Harry wearily.

"And I had not wanted to answer this question because I thought your were too young despite having faced your parent's muderer, I in my infinite wisdom decided it was not the right time." There was a noticable sarcastic tinge when Dumbledore spoke the last words, but Harry was getting sick of him taking his time.

"This connection" said Dumbledore, "that you share with Voldemort was a matter for concern, if you could see into his mind, who is to say he cannot see into yours? Or worse, make you see what he wants you to see?"

A chill ran down Harry's back and he felt his anger spark again slightly. If he had been explained this, he would've tried harder to learn Occlumencey. "Snape." Harry snarled.

"Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore corrected him quietly. "But did you not wonder why it was not I who explained this to you? Why I did not teach you Occlumency? Why I had not so much as looked at you for months?"

Harry looked up. He could see now that Dumbledore looked sad and tired.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "Yeah, I wondered."

"You see," Dumbledore continued, "I believed it could not be long before Voldemort attempted to force his way into your mind, to manipulate and misdirect your thoughts, and I was not eager to give him more incentives to do so. I was sure that if he realized that our relationship was – or had ever been – closer than that of headmaster and pupil, he would seize his chance to use you as a means to spy on me.

I feared the uses to which he would put you, the possibility that he might try and possess you. Harry, I believe I was right to think that Voldemort would have made use of you in such a way, for on those rare occasions when we had close contact, I thought I saw a shadow of him stir behind your eyes…"

Harry remembered the feeling that a dormant snake had risen in him, ready to strike, in those moments when he and Dumbledore had made eye-contact.

"Voldemort's aim in possessing you, as he demonstrated tonight, would not have been for my destruction. It would have been for yours. He hoped, when he possessed you briefly a short while ago, that I would sacrifice you in the hope of killing him. So you see, I have been trying, in distancing myself from you, to protect you, Harry. An old man's mistake…"

He sighed deeply. Harry was letting the words wash over him. He would have been so interested to know all this a few months ago, but now it was meaningless compared to the gaping chasm inside him that was the loss of Sirius; none of it mattered…

"Sirius told me you felt Voldemort awake inside you the very night that you had the vision of Arthur Weasley's attack. I knew at once that my worst fears were correct; Voldemort had realized he could use you. In an attempt to arm you against Voldemort's assaults on your mind, I arranged Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape."

He paused. Harry watched the sunlight, which was sliding slowly across the polished surface of Dumbledore's desk, illuminate a silver ink pot and a handsome scarlet quill. Harry could tell that the portraits all around them were awake and listening raptly to Dumbledore's explanation; he could hear the occasional rustle of robes, the slight clearing of a throat. Phineas Nigellus had still not returned…

"Professor Snape discovered," Dumbledore resumed, "that you had been dreaming about the door to the Department of Mysteries for months. Voldemort, of course, had been obsessed with the possibility of hearing the prophecy ever since he regained his body; and as he dwelled on the door, so did you, though you did not know what it meant.

"And then you saw Rockwood, who worked in the Department of Mysteries before his arrest, telling Voldemort what we had known all along – that the prophecies held in the Ministry of Magic are heavily protected. Only the people to whom they refer can lift them from the shelves without suffering madness; in this case, either Voldemort himself would have to enter the Ministry of Magic, and risk revealing himself at last – or else you would have to take it for him. It became a matter of even greater urgency that you should master Occlumency"

"But I didn't see the need to," snarled Harry angrily. "Your pet potions master never thought to tell my _why_ I should learn it!"

Then reality sunk in, "I couldn't be bothered." He said softly, guiltily, "It was my fault."

He said it aloud to try and ease the dead weight of guilt inside him; a confession must surely relieve some of the terrible pressure squeezing his heart.

"I didn't practice, I didn't bother, I could've stopped myself having those dreams, Hermione kept telling me to do it, if I had he'd never have been able to show me where to go, and – Sirius wouldn't – Sirius wouldn't"

Something was erupting inside Harry's head: a need to justify himself, to explain –

"I tried to check he'd really taken Sirius, I went to Umbridge's office, I spoke to Kreacher in the fire and he said Sirius wasn't there, he said he'd gone!"

"Kreacher lied," said Dumbledore calmly. "You are not his master, he could lie to you without even needing to punish himself. Kreacher intended you to go to the Ministry of Magic."

"He – he sent me on purpose?"

"Oh yes. Kreacher, I am afraid, has been serving more than one master for months."

"How?" said Harry blankly. "He hasn't been out of Grimmauld Place for years."

"Kreacher seized his opportunity shortly before Christmas," said Dumbledore, "when Sirius, apparently, shouted at him to 'get out'. He took Sirius at his word, and interpreted this as an order to leave the house. He went to the only Black family member for whom he had any respect left…Sirius's cousin Narcissa, sister of Bellatrix and wife of Lucius Malfoy"

"How do you know all this?" Harry said. His heart was beating very fast. He felt sick. He remembered worrying about Kreacher's odd absence over Christmas, remembered him turning up again in the attic…

"Kreacher told me last night," said Dumbledore. "You see, when you gave Professor Snape that cryptic warning, he realized that you had had a vision of Sirius trapped in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries. He, like you, attempted to contact Sirius at once. I shouldn't need to explain that members of the Order of the Phoenix have more reliable methods of communicating than the fire in Dolores Umbridge's office. Professor Snape found that Sirius was alive and safe in Grimmauld Place.

"When, however, you did not return from your trip into the Forest with Dolores Umbridge, Professor Snape grew worried that you still believed Sirius to be a captive of Lord Voldemort's. He alerted certain Order members at once."

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh and continued, "Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin were at Headquarters when he made contact. All agreed to go to your aid at once. Professor Snape requested that Sirius remain behind, as he needed somebody to remain at Headquarters to tell me what had happened, for I was due there at any moment. In the meantime he, Professor Snape, intended to search the Forest for you.

"But Sirius did not wish to remain behind while the others went to search for you. He delegated to Kreacher the task of telling me what had happened. And so it was that when I arrived in Grimmauld Place shortly after they had all left for the Ministry, it was the elf who told me – laughing fit to burst – where Sirius had gone."

"He was laughing?" said Harry in a hollow voice.

"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore. "You see, Kreacher was not able to betray us totally. He is not the Secret Keeper for the Order, he could not give the Malfoys our whereabouts, or tell them any of the Order's confidential plans that he had been forbidden to reveal. He was bound by the enchantments of his kind, which is to say that he could not disobey a direct order from his master, Sirius. But he gave Narcissa information of the sort that is very valuable to Voldemort, yet must have seemed much too trivial for Sirius to think of banning him from repeating it."

"Like what?" said Harry.

"Like the fact that the person Sirius cared most about in the world was you," said Dumbledore quietly. "Like the fact that you were coming to regard Sirius as a mixture of father and brother. Voldemort knew already, of course, that Sirius was in the Order, and that you knew where he was – but Kreacher's information made him realize that the one person for whom you would go to any lengths to rescue was Sirius Black."

Harry's lips were cold and numb.

"So…when I asked Kreacher if Sirius was there last night…"

"The Malfoys – undoubtedly on Voldemort's instructions – had told him he must find a way of keeping Sirius out of the way once you had seen the vision of Sirius being tortured. Then, if you decided to check whether Sirius was at home or not, Kreacher would be able to pretend he was not. Kreacher injured Buckbeak the Hippogriff yesterday, and, at the moment when you made your appearance in the fire, Sirius was upstairs tending to him."

There seemed to be very little air in Harry's lungs; his breathing was quick and shallow.

"And Kreacher told you all this…and laughed?" he croaked.

"He did not wish to tell me," said Dumbledore. "But I am a sufficiently accomplished Legilimens myself to know when I am being lied to and I – persuaded him – to tell me the full story, before I left for the Department of Mysteries."

"And," whispered Harry, his hands curled in cold fists on his knees, "and Hermione kept telling us to be nice to him."

"She was quite right, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I warned Sirius when we adopted number twelve Grimmauld Place as our Headquarters that Kreacher must be treated with kindness and respect. I also told him that Kreacher could be dangerous to us. I do not think Sinus took me very seriously, or that he ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human's"

"Don't you blame – don't you – talk – about Sirius like –" Harry's breath was constricted, he could not get the words out properly; but the rage that had subsided briefly flared in him again: he would not let Dumbledore criticize Sirius. "Kreacher's a lying – foul – he deserved –"

"Kreacher is what he has been made by wizards, Harry" said Dumbledore. "Yes, he is to be pitied. His existence has been as miserable as your friend Dobby's. He was forced to do Sirius's bidding, because Sirius was the last of the family to which he was enslaved, but he felt no true loyalty to him. And whatever Kreacher's faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher's lot easier."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT SIRIUS LIKE THAT!" Harry yelled.

He was on his feet again, magic once more flaring, furious, ready to fly at Dumbledore, who had plainly not understood Sirius at all, how brave he was, how much he had suffered…

"What about Snape?" Harry spat. "You're not talking about him, are you? When I told him Voldemort had Sirius he just sneered at me as usual –"

"Harry, you know Professor Snape had no choice but to pretend not to take you seriously in front of Dolores Umbridge," said Dumbledore steadily, "but as I have explained, he informed the Order as soon as possible about what you had said. It was he who deduced where you had gone when you did not return from the Forest. It was he, too, who gave Professor Umbridge fake Veritaserum when she was attempting to force you to tell her Sirius's whereabouts."

Harry disregarded this; he felt a savage pleasure in blaming Snape, it seemed to be easing his own sense of dreadful guilt, and he wanted to hear Dumbledore agree with him.

"Snape – Snape g – goaded Sirius about staying in the house – he made out Sirius was a coward"

"Sirius was much too old and clever to have allowed such feeble taunts to hurt him," said Dumbledore.

"Snape stopped giving me Occlumency lessons!" Harry snarled. "He threw me out of his office!"

"I am aware of it," said Dumbledore heavily "I have already said that it was a mistake for me not to teach you myself, though I was sure, at the time, that nothing could have been more dangerous than to open your mind even further to Voldemort while in my presence –"

"Snape made it worse, my scar always hurt like hell after lessons with him" Harry remembered Ron's thoughts on the subject and plunged on "– how do you know he wasn't trying to soften me up for Voldemort, make it easier for him to get inside my-"

"I trust Severus Snape," said Dumbledore simply "But I forgot – another old man's mistake – that some wounds run too deep for the healing. I thought Professor Snape could overcome his feelings about your father – I was wrong."

"But that's okay, is it?" yelled Harry, ignoring the scandalized faces and disapproving mutterings of the portraits on the walls. "It's okay for Snape to hate my dad, but it's not okay for Sirius to hate Kreacher?"

"Sirius did not hate Kreacher," said Dumbledore. "He regarded him as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike…the 

fountain we destroyed tonight told a lie. We wizards have mistreated and abused our fellows for too long, and we are now reaping our reward."

"SO SIRIUS DESERVED WHAT HE GOT, DID HE?" Harry yelled.

"I did not say that, nor will you ever hear me say it." Dumbledore replied quietly. "Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated."

"Yeah, he did hate it!" said Harry, his voice cracking, turning his back on Dumbledore and walking away. The sun was bright inside the room now and the eyes of all the portraits followed him as he walked, without realizing what he was doing, without seeing the office at all. "You made him stay shut up in that house and he hated it, that's why he wanted to get out last night."

"I was trying to keep Sirius alive," said Dumbledore quietly

"People don't like being locked up!" Harry said furiously, rounding on him. "You did it to me all last summer!"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and buried his face in his longfingered hands. Harry watched him, but this uncharacteristic sign of exhaustion, or sadness, or whatever it was from Dumbledore, did not soften him. On the contrary, he felt even angrier that Dumbledore was showing signs of weakness. He had no business being weak when Harry wanted to rage and storm at him.

Dumbledore lowered his hands and surveyed Harry through his half-moon glasses.

"It is time," he said, "for me to tell you what I should have told you five years ago, Harry. Please sit down. I am going to tell you everything. I ask only a little patience. You will have your chance to rage at me – to do whatever you like – when I have finished. I will not stop you."

Harry glared at him for a moment, then flung himself back into the chair opposite Dumbledore and waited.

Dumbledore stared for a moment at the sunlit grounds outside the window, then looked back at Harry and said, "Five years ago you arrived at Hogwarts, Harry, safe and whole, as I had planned and intended. Well – not quite whole. You had suffered as I knew you would when I left you on your aunt and uncle's doorstep. I knew I was condemning you to ten dark and difficult years."

He paused. Harry said nothing.

"You might ask – and with good reason – why it had to be so. Why could some wizarding family not have taken you in? Many would have done so, more than gladly, would have been honored and delighted to raise you as a son.

"My answer is that my priority was to keep you alive. You were in more danger than perhaps anyone but I realized. Voldemort had been vanquished hours before, but his supporters – and many of them are almost as terrible as he – were still at large, angry, desperate and violent. And I had to make my decision, too, with regard to the years ahead. Did I believe that Voldemort was gone for ever? No. I knew not whether it would be ten, twenty or fifty years before he returned, but I was sure he would do so, and I was sure, too, knowing him as I have done, that he would not rest until he killed you.

"I knew that Voldemort's knowledge of magic is perhaps more extensive than any wizard alive. I knew that even my most complex and powerful protective spells and charms were unlikely to be invincible if he ever returned to full power.

"But I knew, too, where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated – to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother's blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative."

"She doesn't love me," said Harry at once. "She doesn't give a damn –"

"But she took you," Dumbledore cut across him. "She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother's sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you."

"I still don't understand." But he did. Terribly so. Dumbledore had left him to a family that he _knew_ would abuse Harry, he admited it straight just now, more than once. He knew that they hated him and yet, so long as he was safe from Voldemort it was ok. He was getting pissed again.

"While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, while you are there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years."

"Wait," said Harry. "Wait a moment."

He sat up straighter in his chair, staring at Dumbledore.

"You sent that Howler. You told her to remember – it was your voice –"

"I thought," said Dumbledore, inclining his head slightly, "that she might need reminding of the pact she had sealed by taking you. I suspected the Dementor attack might have awoken her to the dangers of having you as a surrogate son."

"It did," said Harry quietly. "Well – my uncle more than her. He wanted to chuck me out, but after the Howler came she – she said I had to stay. The pact..."

"The pact was very simple. She was to let you live until your seventeenth birthday in her house together with her family, thereby protecting you from Voldemort. I knew from this pact that no matter how bad it got, you would be alive because the pact, even if she didn't know it, prevented her and her family from killing you or even letting you die, whether directly or indirectly."

He stared at the floor for a moment, then said, "But what's this got to do with –"

He could not say Sirius's name.

"Five years ago, then," continued Dumbledore, as though he had not paused in his story, "you arrived at Hogwarts, neither as happy nor as well-nourished as I would have liked, perhaps, yet alive and healthy. You were not a pampered little prince, but as normal a boy as I could have hoped under the circumstances. Thus far, my plan was working well, for it was my plan for you _not _to grow up with a big head."

Harry nodded, he had succeeded in that at least.

"And then…well, you will remember the events of your first year at Hogwarts quite as clearly as I do. You rose magnificently to the challenge that faced you and sooner – much sooner – than I had anticipated, you found yourself face to face with Voldemort. You survived again. You did more. You delayed his return to full power and strength. You fought a man's fight. I was…prouder of you than I can say.

"Yet there was a flaw in this wonderful plan of mine," said Dumbledore. "An obvious flaw that I knew, even then, might be the undoing of it all. And yet, knowing how important it was that my plan should succeed, I told myself that I would not permit this flaw to ruin it. I alone could prevent this, so I alone must be strong. And here was my first test, as you lay in the hospital wing, weak from your struggle with Voldemort."

"I don't understand what you're saying," said Harry.

"Don't you remember asking me, as you lay in the hospital wing, why Voldemort had tried to kill you when you were a baby?"

Harry nodded.

"Ought I to have told you then?"

Harry stared into the blue eyes and said nothing, but his heart was racing again.

"You do not see the flaw in the plan yet? No…perhaps not. Well, as you know, I decided not to answer you. Eleven, I told myself, was much too young to know. I had never intended to tell you when you were eleven. The knowledge would be too much at such a young age.

"I should have recognized the danger signs then. I should have asked myself why I did not feel more disturbed that you had already asked me the question to which I knew, one day, I must give a terrible 

answer. I should have recognized that I was too happy to think that I did not have to do it on that particular day…you were too young, much too young.

"And so we entered your second year at Hogwarts. And once again you met challenges even grown wizards have never faced; once again you acquitted yourself beyond my wildest dreams. You did not ask me again, however, why Voldemort had left that mark on you. We discussed your scar, oh yes…we came very, very close to the subject. Why did I not tell you everything?

"Well, it seemed to me that twelve was, after all, hardly better than eleven to receive such information. I allowed you to leave my presence, bloodstained, exhausted but exhilarated, and if I felt a twinge of unease that I ought, perhaps, to have told you then, it was swiftly silenced. You were still so young, you see, and I could not find it in myself to spoil that night of triumph…

"Do you see, Harry? Do you see the flaw in my brilliant plan now? I had fallen into the trap I had foreseen, that I had told myself I could avoid, that I must avoid."

"I don't –"

"I cared about you too much," said Dumbledore simply. "I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act.

Is there a Defense? I defy anyone who has watched you as I have – and I have watched you more closely than you can have imagined – not to want to save you more pain than you had already suffered. What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a person on my hands.

We entered your third year. I watched from afar as you struggled to repel Dementors, as you found Sirius, learned what he was and rescued him. Was I to tell you then, at the moment when you had triumphantly snatched your godfather from the jaws of the Ministry? But now, at the age of thirteen, my excuses were running out. Young you might be, but you had proved you were exceptional. My conscience was uneasy, Harry. I knew the time must come soon…

But you came out of the maze last year, having watched Cedric Diggory die, having escaped death so narrowly yourself…and I did not tell you, though I knew, now Voldemort had returned, I must do it soon. And now, tonight, I know you have long been ready for the knowledge I have kept from you for so long, because you have proved that I should have placed the burden upon you before this. My only Defense is this; I have watched you struggling under more burdens than any student who as ever passed through this school and I could not bring myself to add another – the greatest one of all."

Harry waited, but Dumbledore did not speak.

"I still don't understand."

"Voldemort tried to kill you when you were a child because of a prophecy made shortly before your birth. He knew the prophecy had been made, though he did not know its full contents. He set out to kill you when you were still a baby, believing he was fulfilling the terms of the prophecy.

He discovered, to his cost, that he was mistaken, when the curse intended to kill you backfired. And so, since his return to his body, and particularly since your extraordinary escape from him last year, he has been determined to hear that prophecy in its entirety. This is the weapon he has been seeking so assiduously since his return; the knowledge of how to destroy you."

The sun had risen fully now: Dumbledore's office was bathed in it. The glass case in which the sword of Godric Gryffindor resided gleamed white and opaque, the fragments of the instruments Harry had thrown to the floor glistened like raindrops, and behind him, the baby Fawkes made soft chirruping noises in his nest of ashes.

"The prophecy's smashed," Harry said blankly. "I was pulling Neville up those benches in the – the room where the archway was, and I ripped his robes and it fell…"

"The thing that smashed was merely the record of the prophecy kept by the Department of Mysteries. But the prophecy was made to somebody, and that person has the means of recalling it perfectly"

"Who heard it?" asked Harry, though he thought he knew the answer already

"I did," said Dumbledore. "On a cold, wet night sixteen years ago, in a room above the bar at the Hog's Head inn. I had gone there to see an applicant for the post of Divination teacher, though it was against my inclination to allow the subject of Divination to continue at all. The applicant, however, was the great-great-granddaughter of a very famous, very gifted Seer and I thought it common politeness to meet her. I was disappointed. It seemed to me that she had not a trace of the gift herself. I told her, courteously I hope, that I did not think she would be suitable for the post. I turned to leave."

Dumbledore got to his feet and walked past Harry to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawkes's perch. He bent down, slid back a catch and took from inside it the shallow stone basin, carved with runes around the edges, in which Harry had seen his father tormenting Snape. Dumbledore walked back to the desk, placed the Pensieve upon it, and raised his wand to his own temple. From it, he withdrew silvery, gossamer-fine strands of thought clinging to the wand and deposited them into the basin. He sat back down behind his desk and watched his thoughts swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.

A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly; her feet in the basin. But when Sibyll Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had heard her use once before:

"_The one with the power to vanquish the – Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while _

_the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass below and vanished. The silence within the office was absolute. Neither Dumbledore nor Harry nor any of the portraits made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent.

Harry was quiet for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing. Dumbledore was shocked.

"This is not a laughing matter Harry, I hope you realise that."

"You're mad." Harry's response was not one he expected, but then what _had_ he expected. "You're abso-_bloody-_lutely **senile** if you think that I am the only one who can kill Voldemort."

"Harry-

"First of all," Harry cut him off loudly, "while the prophecy clearly states that I have some sort of _power_ that can defeat the Dark Lord, no where does it say that I am the only one. Not only that, Dumbledore, but we both know that prophecies are extremely vauge and that if I went to Voldemort right now and offered a truce, he would probably accept thus making the prophecy completly null and void as it is.

Second of all," Harry continued getting louder and louder, "what the hell is up with you! For the first ten years of my life, you care about me being kept alive and could give a damn about my happiness! Suddenly I show up to Hogwarts and you start caring about how I feel rather than how alive I am. Next thing I know I'm back at the Dursleys, and oops we're back to making sure I'm alive despite how miserable I am.

Comes along second year, and once more you show that my happiness is your main concern until summer shows up where I'm shipped back to the Dursleys, and the pattern repeats itself! What the _bloody fuck_ is up with that?!"

He stopped suddenly as he noticed Dumbledore had stopped listening and was now banging his head into his desk _hard_ again, and again, and again.

After a minute of _thumps_ coming from the Headmaster Harry grew worried that maybe he _had_ gone completely around the bend now.

"Err, Professor?"

Dumbledore stopped, shocked at the now respectful voice being used for him, slowly he lifted his head and looked at the boy he though of as his grandson, Harry could distincly see the smattering of bruises across Dumbledore's head and frowned slightly as he noticed the tightness around his eyes signifying the amount of pain he was in. He may no longer trust the old man but he still loved him...for now at least.

"I apologize, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore said, "It seems you are correct, this summer you will not have to return to the Dursleys if you don't want to."

Harry mumbled something under his breath that the Professor didn't catch and he raised an eyebrow, "What was that Mr. Potter?"

"You can call me Harry you know." He said again this time louder. Dumbledore sighed, his eyes filled with pain that was clearly not physical, "I think I have lost that place, don't you?"

Suddenly, Harry felt weary, he felt _so _tired. His emotions drained as he realized that as hard as it had been on him, it probably was the same if not more on Dumbledore. Tears prickling at his eyes, Harry furiously shook his head no, and before he could think about what he was going to do, he was around the desk and clinging to Dumbledore for dear life. Hugging him as if he would slip away.

After a second of shock, Dumbledore slowly brought his arms around and returned the hug, his heart soaring and his eyes re-gaining a small twinkle that they had lost. He tightened the hug at Harry's next words.

"I love you, Professor."

"I love you too Harry, and call me Albus in private please."

Harry repeated the statement, somehow doing the impossible and tightening the hug, "I love you, Albus."

The portraits, who had turned away to give them this private moment, as well as shedding some tears, missed the fire flaming green, as did the two behind the desk wrapped up in each others hug. So when a familiar voice spoke, it scared the hell out of two of them.

"Well," drawled the voice, "isn't this lovely?"

Two heads cracked around while screaming the same thing, "SIRIUS!"

**A/N: **_HA HA! Cliffie! Okay, I know I said I was going to do some explaining but things took a /bit/ too long so next part will be in the next chapter! I know I said this will be both Good and Evil Dumbles, and it will be, just not necessarily in this Dimension. Harry does become a Dimension traveller! Happy Reading, and NOTIFY ME OF ANY MISTAKES!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: **Power Explained

_Previously_

_The portraits, who had turned away to give them this private moment, as well as shedding some tears, missed the fire flaming green, as did the two behind the desk wrapped up in each others hug. So when a familiar voice spoke, it scared the hell out of two of them._

"_Well," drawled the voice, "isn't this lovely?"_

_Two heads cracked around while screaming the same thing, "SIRIUS!"_

_Now..._

Harry felt his breath leave him as his heart, which had jumped to his throat, plummeted back into his stomach. The man standing there sounded like Sirius, but looked drastically diffrent. The man was looking very confused.

"Err- about what?" he asked

Harry shook his head too choked to say anything, mouth filling with bile at the amount of disappointment churning in his stomach. Dumbledore seemed to take no time to recover, his face as impassive as ever.

"My apologies, Mr. –

"Evans," The man replied throwing his chest out, "John Evans." And then a second later, "I always wanted to do that."

"Mr. Evans, then," Dumbledore nodded amicably not getting the joke, Harry however just stared hard at him, "You sounded like someone else we knew and it startled us a little."

"Sound?" Harry cut him off, his mind screaming at him that he wasn't who he seemed to be. He was a metamorphmagus, and Harry was right now learning everything there is to know about one. "You bloody well act like him!" he was so sure it was him, but Sirius wasn't a metamorph. Or at least if he was he was keeping it a secret.

"Harry..." Dumbledore said warningly, he was ignored, as Harry's mind raced trying to come up with a way of exposing him. '_Just to make sure'_ Harry thought to his conseince, _'and if it really is him, I'll kill him for real this time!'_ Then a lightbulb turned on.

Scowling at Dumbledore, he glared at the floor and thrust his hands in his pockets, convienently where his wand was.

A small flck unseen by Dumbledore or this 'John Evans' and a rat with a silver paw was running from under Dumbledore's desk and heading to the door as fast as it could.

There was a snarl from the man and suddenly a large black dog was in the room, chasing after the rat at full speed. The rat disappeared under the door, and the dog smashed headfirst into the door, where it stood there for a few seconds, a look of shock that did not belong on any dog plastered across his face.

Dumbledore was sitting there his twinkle back in full force while Harry stood there pure fury etched on his face. He knew it was him, but still a part of him did not want to get his hopes up. Now that he knew for sure, his anger, the hot white flames leaped up inside, consuming his rational thought.

The dog turned to look dazedly, and seemed to gulp when he saw Harry's face. A second later, Sirius Black was standing in place of the dog, a look of fear across his face.

Dumbledore decided that now was a good time to question Harry, and distract him from his anger. He knew he needed to be blunt in an effort to distract Harry, possibly put him on the defensive.

"Tell me Harry," he started, not surprised to see that while he was being heard he was ignored. "How were you able to survive the Killiing Curse that Voldemort hit you with."

The look of fear was washed away on Sirius' face ro be replaced with anger and worry, his voice was sharp. "What!?"

Harry's fury was overridden as he saw Sirius' face, '_Oh...crap! Stupid old man, had to let that out!' _He shifted nervously wondering how he was going to calm him down when Sirius rushed over and engulfed him with a hug.

"Oh, my lord!" he kept saying over and over, clutching Harry close. Harry was shocked to feel that Sirius was shaking, and he realised that he was crying.

"Sirius, shh. C'mon now, it's ok Padfoot. I'm not dead." Harry repeated over and over trying to calm him down. It was a few minutes before Sirius managed to get his crying under control.

"I was so stupid, I figured the rest of the Order would save you, I used the time to sneak away and do some other things. If I was there you wouldn't have gotten hit with the Killing Curse, it's my fault!" Sirius berated himself, Harry had frozen.

"What do you mean you weren't there, I saw you!" Harry asked sharply, Dumbledore also was interested in the answer. Sirius however was now looking nervously at them, his feet shifting uncomfortably.

"Um... I don't know how to say this..." he took a deep breath, "Okay, that person who went to the Ministry was a low level Death Eater I had captured and polyjuiced, placing him under the Imperius Curse so that he would act like me, I figured since he isn't the best duelist he would die sometime and leave me to take up the identity of John Evans, something I was going to do while he impersonated me."

"Polyjuice only lasts an hour." Harry pointed out, "He would have been found out instantly."

Sirius smirked, "I modified it a bit and made it permanent. It really wasn't too hard." He added as he saw Harry's incredulous look.

"The reason why Polyjuice is so difficult is because it has to turn you back at a certain time, no one wants to become someone else for the rest of their lives, and you can't create a new look because the potion changes you into someone alive."

"So," Harry said, "you capture a death eater, force feed him Polyjuice turning him into a clone of yourself. Then you place him under the Imperius Curse, and when the shit hit the fan earlier you sent this clone while you went off somewhere else, effectively killing him."

Sirius was nodding happily and Harry sighed.

"Why were you doing this again?" he asked. He knew the answer, he was just having trouble wrapping his mind around it.

"With my new identity I can go out on the streets, visit during Quidditch, buy a house, assume custody of you, etcetra etcetra." Sirius said grinning like an idiot.

Harry got a pained look on his face as his eyes resumed the haunted look they had not a half-hour earlier. "Do you know what that did to me, watching you die?" he asked, his voice coming out scratchy as he swallowed the tears that were threatening to come out.

Sirius' happy face dissolved in an instant as he grabbed Harry into a massive bear hug. "I'm so sorry, kiddo." He said softly rubbing his back soothingly. "I didn't expect my clone to die so fast, and didn't have any time to warn you."

Dumbledore however was more interested in Sirius' appearance. "I am most curious on how you managed to change your looks, Sirius." He stated. Sirius sighed, he knew an order when he heard one.

"I am a metamorphmagus." He said guiltily looking down and avoiding Dumbledore's eyes. If he had, he would have seen Dumbledore's eyes widen as his eyebrows shot up. Since he didn't he missed being the only person aside from Harry to watch Dumbledore lose his composure. When he finally did look up, it was to see Dumbledore's face as impassive as ever.

"It is extremely rare for someone to be both a metamorph and an animagus, Sirius. What side affects are there?" he asked casually. It was the understatement of the century. No one had ever been, at least according to history, both an animagus and a metamorphmagus.

"Um...well, I can kinda changemyanimagusformintoanything" he said quickly.

Dumbledore smiled while Harry gasped increduosly, "You can change your form into anything!?"

"Well," Sirius ammended, "Not anything, I have to stick to a dog, but any type/color of a dog I can do." Here he smirked, "I specifically picked the Grim form so I could scare the hell out of people."

Harry laughed shaking his head, his godfather truly was a prankster. Dumbledore now satisfied was back on track.

"Now, Harry." He said turning to him, "The Killing Curse, what happened." Sirius also turned to look at him sharply and Harry shrugged.

"I dunno," he said uncaring, "it felt like I absorbed it."

Dumbledore pulled his beard and thought aloud, "Hmm... I guess that's possible but where would it go..."

"Go?" Sirius asked breaking Dumbledore from his thoughts, Dumbledore looked at him distractedly, as if he forgot he was there, before answering.

"Harry's body isn't strong enough to support a magical core bigger than what he already has, and if I'm not mistaken then his core was already brimming with energy when he was hit, leaving no room for the power to go anywhere without the core growing... I wonder..."

Quickly Dumbledore brought out his wand and gave a few waves around Harry, starting around his stomach, he quickly made his way up until he reached his head. Dumbledore frowned before waving a more complicated pattern all around Harry's head going in a circle and muttering under his breath in a language he couldn't understand yet.

His mind was working full time catalouging everything Dumbledore was doing, explaining to him what it was and how to do it in the future.

When Dumbledore was done, he made his way back to his seat nodding his head, "It seems," he said, "that the power from the Killing Curse went towards your mind, creating a second core almost as big as your first."

"But I thought you said his body couldn't handle a bigger core, a second core it could handle?" asked a very confused Sirius.

Dumbledore shook his head, "This core is not in his body, it is a mental core, one in his mind only. Tell me," he said turning to Harry, "have you noticed anything strange since being struck by the Killing Curse?"

"Let me see," Harry said sarcastically, "I'm now learning magic more advanced than whats Auror grade spells and can probably re-enact the duel you just had with old Voldie spell for spell, but other than that no I can't say I have."

Sirius was choking away as Dumbledore twinkled at him, "You learn about the magic and are able to copy it as you see it then, correct?"

Harry nodded but added, "Not just spells, any type of magic. I can now transform into a dog, thanks to Sirius here, as well as I gained the ability of a metamorph. I can travel the Floo network without needing 

Floo Powder, and countless other things that are absolutely useless, like being able to create a Wizarding Portrait. And yes, I mastered Occlumencey and Legilimencey, although I have yet to sort through my memories." He finished enjoying the way Sirius was gaping as Dumbledore sat back a very satisfied look on him.

"Does this only work for magic you see currently, or would it work for your memories as well?" Dumbledore asked keenly.

Harry shrugged, "No clue. Like I said, I haven't got around to going through my memories. I can try one now if you want, give me a minute."

Harry sat back and closed his eyes, his mind clearing instantly as he checked his shields. Once he was satisified with them, he wondered what memory he should choose. He decided to pick one that, should this ability of his work, would prove very useful. Slowly he immersed himself in the memory.

_**FLASHBACK!!**_

_The office was full of people. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking backwards and forwards on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation; Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard with very short wiry hair whom Harry did not recognize, were positioned on either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes._

_The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses were not shamming sleep tonight. All of them were alert and serious, watching what was happening below them. As Harry entered, a few flitted into neighboring frames and whispered urgently into their neighbor's ear._

_Harry pulled himself free of Umbridge's grasp as the door swung shut behind them. Cornelius Fudge was glaring at him with a kind of vicious satisfaction on his face._

"_Well," he said. "Well, well, well…"_

_Harry replied with the dirtiest look he could muster. His heart drummed madly inside him, but his brain was oddly cool and clear._

"_He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower," said Umbridge. There was an indecent excitement in her voice, the same callous pleasure Harry had heard as she watched Professor Trelawney dissolving with misery in the Entrance Hall. "The Malfoy boy cornered him."_

"_Did he, did he?" said Fudge appreciatively. "I must remember to tell Lucius. Well, Potter…I expect you know why you are here?"_

_Harry fully intended to respond with a defiant 'yes': his mouth had opened and the word was half-formed when he caught sight of Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore was not looking directly at Harry – his eyes were fixed on a point just over his shoulder – but as Harry stared at him, he shook his head a fraction of an inch to each side. Harry changed direction mid-word._

"_Ye — no."_

"_I beg your pardon?" said Fudge._

"_No," said Harry, firmly._

"_You don't know why you are here?"_

"_No, I don't," said Harry._

_Fudge looked incredulously from Harry to Professor Umbridge. Harry took advantage of his momentary inattention to steal another quick look at Dumbledore, who gave the carpet the tiniest of nods and the shadow of a wink._

"_So you have no idea," said Fudge, in a voice positively sagging with sarcasm, "why Professor Umbridge has brought you to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?"_

"_School rules?" said Harry. "No."_

"_Or Ministry Decrees?" amended Fudge angrily._

"_Not that I'm aware of," said Harry blandly._

_His heart was still hammering very fast. It was almost worth telling these lies to watch Fudges blood pressure rising, but he could not see how on earth he would get away with them; if somebody had tipped off Umbridge about the D.A. then he, the leader, might as well be packing his trunk right now._

"_So, it's news to you, is it," said Fudge, his voice now thick with anger, "that an illegal student organization has been discovered within this school?"_

"_Yes, it is," said Harry, hoisting an unconvincing look of innocent surprise on to his face._

"_I think, Minister," said Umbridge silkily from beside him, "we might make better progress if I fetch our informant."_

"_Yes, yes, do," said Fudge, nodding, and he glanced maliciously at Dumbledore as Umbridge left the room. "There's nothing like a good witness, is t here, Dumbledore?"_

"_Nothing at all, Cornelius," said Dumbledore gravely, inclining his head._

_There was a wait of several minutes, in which nobody looked at each other, then Harry heard the door open behind him. Umbridge moved past him into the room, gripping by the shoulder Cho's curly-haired friend, Marietta, who was hiding her face in her hands._

"_Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened," said Professor Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, "it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The Minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been._

"_Marietta's mother, Minister," she added, looking up at Fudge, "is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation, Floo Network office – she's been helping us police the Hogwarts fires, you know."_

"_Jolly good, jolly good!" said Fudge heartily. "Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to – galloping gargoyles!"_

_As Marietta raised her head, Fudge leapt backwards in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. He cursed, and stamped on the hem of his cloak which had started to smoke. Marietta gave a wail and pulled the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before everyone had seen that her face was horribly disfigured by a series of close-set purple pustules that had spread across her nose and cheeks to form the word SNEAK._

"_Never mind the spots now, dear," said Umbridge impatiently, "just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister –"_

_But Marietta gave another muffled wail and shook her head frantically._

"_Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him," snapped Umbridge. She hitched her sickly smile back on to her face and said, "Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately, at that point this hex," she waved impatiently at Marietta's concealed face, "came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more."_

"_Well, now," said Fudge, fixing Marietta with what he evidently imagined was a kind and fatherly look, "it is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge. You did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?"_

_But Marietta would not speak; she merely shook her head again, her eyes wide and fearful._

"_Haven't we got a counter-jinx for this?" Fudge asked Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta's face. "So she can speak freely?"_

"_I have not yet managed to find one," Umbridge admitted grudgingly, and Harry felt a surge of pride in Hermione's jinxing ability. "But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take up the story from here."_

"_You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade –"_

"_And what is your evidence for that?" cut in Professor McGonagall._

"_I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired," said Umbridge smugly. "He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me –"_

"_Oh, so that's why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!" said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "What an interesting insight into our justice system!"_

"_Blatant corruption!" roared the portrait of the corpulent, red-nosed wizard on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk. "The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!"_

"_Thank you, Fortescue, that will do," said Dumbledore softly._

"_The purpose of Potter's meeting with these students," continued Professor Umbridge, "was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age –"_

"_I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores," said Dumbledore quietly, peering at her over the half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his crooked nose._

_Harry stared at him. He could not see how Dumbledore was going to talk him out of this one; if Willy Widdershins had indeed heard every word he had said in the Hog's Head there was simply no escaping it._

"_Oho!" said Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. "Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on - Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potters identical twin in the Hog's Head that day? Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life and a couple of invisible Dementors?"_

_Percy Weasley let out a hearty laugh._

"_Oh, very good, Minister, very good!"_

_Harry could have kicked him. Then he saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore was smiling gently, too._

"_Cornelius, I do not deny – and nor, I am sure, does Harry – that he was in the Hog's Head that day, nor that he was trying to recruit students to a Defense Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal. If you remember, the Ministry Decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Harry's Hogsmeade meeting, so he was not breaking any rules at all in the Hog's Head."_

_Percy looked as though he had been struck in the face by something very heavy. Fudge remained motionless in mid-bounce, his mouth hanging open._

_Umbridge recovered first._

"_That's all very fine, Headmaster," she said, smiling sweetly, "but we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are."_

"_Well," said Dumbledore, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, "they certainly would be, if they had continued after the Decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that any such meetings continued?"_

_As Dumbledore spoke, Harry heard a rustle behind him and rather thought Kingsley whispered something. He could have sworn, too, that he felt something brush against his side, a gentle something like a draught or bird wings, but looking down he saw nothing there._

"_Evidence?" repeated Umbridge, with that horrible wide toad-like smile. "Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?"_

"_Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings?" said Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows. "I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight."_

"_Miss Edgecombe," said Umbridge at once, "tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?"_

_Harry felt a horrible plummeting in his stomach. This was it, they had hit a dead end of solid evidence that not even Dumbledore would be able to shift aside._

"_Just nod or shake your head, dear," Umbridge said coaxingly to Marietta, "come on, now, that won't re-activate the jinx."_

_Everyone in the room was gazing at the top of Marietta's face. Only her eyes were visible between the pulled-up robes and her curly fringe. Perhaps it was a trick of the firelight, but her eyes looked oddly blank. And then – to Harry's utter amazement – Marietta shook her head._

_Umbridge looked quickly at Fudge, then back at Marietta._

"_I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?"_

_Again, Marietta shook her head._

"_What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?" said Umbridge in a testy voice._

"_I would have thought her meaning was quite clear," said Professor McGonagall harshly, "there have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?"_

_Marietta nodded._

"_But there was a meeting tonight!" said Umbridge furiously. "There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organized it, Potter – why are you shaking your head, girl?"_

"_Well, usually when a person shakes their head," said McGonagall coldly, "they mean 'no'. So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign-language as yet unknown to humans –"_

_Professor Umbridge seized Marietta, pulled her round to face her and began shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore was on his feet, his wand raised: Kingsley started forwards and Umbridge leapt back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they had been burned._

"_I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores," said Dumbledore and, for the first time, he looked angry._

"_You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge," said Kingsley, in his deep, slow voice. "You don't want to get yourself into trouble, now."_

"_No," said Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at the towering figure of Kingsley. "I mean, yes – you're right, Shacklebolt – I – I forgot myself."_

_Marietta was standing exactly where Umbridge had released her. She seemed neither perturbed by Umbridge's sudden attack, nor relieved by her release; she was still clutching her robe up to her oddly blank eyes and staring straight ahead of her._

_A sudden suspicion, connected to Kingsley's whisper and the thing he had felt shoot past him, sprang into Harry's mind._

"_Dolores," said Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, "the meeting tonight – the one we know definitely happened –"_

"_Yes," said Umbridge, pulling herself together, "yes…well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind. We needed evidence and the room provided."_

_And to Harry's horror, she withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement's wall and handed it to Fudge._

"_The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with," she said softly._

"_Excellent," said Fudge, a smile spreading across his face, "excellent, Dolores. And…by thunder…"_

_He looked up at Dumbledore, who was still standing beside Marietta, his wand held loosely in his hand._

"_See what they've named themselves?" said Fudge quietly. "Dumbledore's Army."_

_Dumbledore reached out and took the piece of parchment from Fudge. He gazed at the heading scribbled by Hermione months before and for a moment seemed unable to speak. Then he looked up, smiling._

"_Well, the game is up," he said simply. "Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius - or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?"_

_Harry saw McGonagall and Kingsley look at each other. There was fear in both faces. He did not understand what was going on, and nor, apparently, did Fudge._

"_Statement?" said Fudge slowly. "What – I don't –?"_

"_Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, still smiling as he waved the list of names before Fudge's face. "Not Potter's Army. Dumbledore's Army."_

"_But – but –"_

_Understanding blazed suddenly in Fudges face. He took a horrified step backwards, yelped, and jumped out of the fire again._

"_You?" he whispered, stamping again on his smouldering cloak._

"_That's right," said Dumbledore pleasantly._

"_You organized this?"_

"_I did," said Dumbledore._

"_You recruited these students for – for your army?"_

"_Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting," said Dumbledore, nodding. "Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course."_

_Marietta nodded. Fudge looked from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling._

"_Then you have been plotting against me!" he yelled._

"_That's right," said Dumbledore cheerfully._

"_NO!" shouted Harry._

_Kingsley flashed a look of warning at him, McGonagall widened her eyes threateningly, but it had suddenly dawned on Harry what Dumbledore was about to do, and he could not let it happen._

"_No — Professor Dumbledore –!"_

"_Be quiet, Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office," said Dumbledore calmly._

"_Yes, shut up, Potter!" barked Fudge, who was still ogling Dumbledore with a kind of horrified delight. "Well, well, well – I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead –"_

"_Instead you get to arrest me," said Dumbledore, smiling. "It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?"_

"_Weasley!" cried Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, "Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?"_

"_Yes, sir, I think so, sir!" said Percy eagerly, whose nose was splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking._

"_The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilize me?"_

"_Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!" said Percy, scanning his notes joyfully._

"_Very well, then," said Fudge, now radiant with glee, "duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!"_

_Percy dashed from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turned back to Dumbledore._

"_You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged, then sent to Azkaban to await trial!"_

"_Ah," said Dumbledore gently, "yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag."_

"_Snag?" said Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy. "I see no snag, Dumbledore!"_

"_Well," said Dumbledore apologetically, "I'm afraid I do."_

"_Oh, really?"_

"_Well – it's just that you seem to be laboring under the delusion that I am going to – what is the phrase? – come quietly. I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course – but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing."_

_Umbridge's face was growing steadily redder; she looked as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stared at Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he had just been stunned by a sudden blow and could not quite believe it had happened. _

_He made a small __choking noise, then looked round at Kingsley and the man with short grey hair, who alone of everyone in the room had remained entirely silent so far. The latter gave Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forwards a little, away from the wall. Harry saw his hand drift, almost casually, towards his pocket._

"_Don't be silly, Dawlish," said Dumbledore kindly. "I'm sure you are an excellent Auror – I seem to remember that you achieved 'Outstanding' in all your NEWT s — but if you attempt to — er — bring me in by force, I will have to hurt you."_

_The man called Dawlish blinked rather foolishly. He looked towards Fudge again, but this time seemed to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next._

"_So," sneered Fudge, recovering himself, "you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?"_

"_Merlin's beard, no," said Dumbledore, smiling, "not unless you are foolish enough to force me to."_

"_He will not be single-handed!" said Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes._

"_Oh yes he will, Minerva!" said Dumbledore sharply. "Hogwarts needs you!"_

"_Enough of this rubbish!" said Fudge, pulling out his own wand. "Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!"_

_A streak of silver light flashed around the room; there was a bang like a gunshot and the floor trembled; a hand grabbed the scruff of Harry's neck and forced him down on the floor as a second silver flash went off; several of the portraits yelled, Fawkes screeched and a cloud of dust filled the air. Coughing in the dust, Harry saw a dark figure fall to the ground with a crash in front of him; there was a shriek and a thud and somebody cried, "No!"; then there was the sound of breaking glass, frantically scuffling footsteps, a groan…and silence._

_Harry struggled around to see who was half-strangling him and saw Professor McGonagall crouched beside him; she had forced both him and Marietta out of harm's way. Dust was still floating gently down through the air on to them. Panting slightly, Harry saw a very tall figure moving towards them._

"_Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked._

"_Yes!" said Professor McGonagall, getting up and dragging Harry and Marietta with her._

_The dust was clearing. The wreckage of the office loomed into view: Dumbledore's desk had been overturned, all of the spindly tables had been knocked to the floor, their silver instruments in pieces. Fudge, Umbridge, Kingsley and Dawlish lay motionless on the floor. Fawkes the phoenix soared in wide circles above them, singing softly._

"_Unfortunately, I had to hex Kingsley too, or it would have looked very suspicious," said Dumbledore in a low voice. "He was remarkably quick on the uptake, modifying Miss Edgecombe's memory like that while everyone was looking the other way – thank him, for me, won't you, Minerva?_

"_Now, they will all awake very soon and it will be best if they do not know that we had time to communicate – you must act as though no time has passed, as though they were merely knocked to the ground, they will not remember –"_

"_Where will you go, Dumbledore?" whispered Professor McGonagall. "Grimmauld Place?"_

"_Oh no," said Dumbledore, with a grim smile, "I am not leaving to go into hiding. Fudge will soon wish he'd never dislodged me from Hogwarts, I promise you."_

"_Professor Dumbledore…" Harry began._

_He did not know what to say first: how sorry he was that he had started the D.A. in the first place and caused all this trouble, or how terrible he felt that Dumbledore was leaving to save him from expulsion? But Dumbledore cut him off before he could say another word._

"_Listen to me, Harry," he said urgently. "You must study Occlumency as hard as you can, do you understand me? Do everything Professor Snape tells you and practice it particularly every night before sleeping so that you can close your mind to bad dreams – you will understand why soon enough, but you must promise me –"_

_The man called Dawlish was stirring. Dumbledore seized Harry's wrist._

"_Remember – close your mind –"_

_But as Dumbledore's fingers closed over Harry's skin, a pain shot through the scar on his forehead and he felt again that terrible, snakelike longing to strike Dumbledore, to bite him, to hurt him –_

"– _you will understand," whispered Dumbledore._

_Fawkes circled the office and swooped low over him. Dumbledore released Harry, raised his hand and grasped the phoenix's long golden tail. There was a flash of fire and the pair of them were gone._

_**END FLASHBACK**_

Harry pulled himself out of his memory and assimilated everything he had learned. The spells Dumbledore had used to take out the Ministry officials, were fairly easy if obscure, and he now knew them just like everything else.

The Memory Charm was another one added to his collection, and then finally the one thing he specifically choose that memory for, was the way Fawkes travels. Looking around at Dumbledore and Sirius who were looking at him impatiently, he gave a smirk before disappearing in a flash of fire, and reappearing on the other side of the office.

Turning to look at the two people in the office, he was rewarded with gobsmacked looks. He couldn't help it, he cracked up, releasing all the pent up emotions he had held, he collapsed and laughed. It wasn't long before the other two joined him, Sirius half crying as well.

**A/N: **_Okay, third chappie is up, please let me know of any mistakes, next up Harry visits the hospital wing and Hagrid, before he has more conversations with Dumbledore. Harry will NOT be going back to the Dursleys for the summer, he will be taking a 'vacation' in other dimensions. He will be visiting multiple dimensions so any suggestions on what to make them are welcome, although I can't say all will be used. Happy Reading!!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:** Opening Realities

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said coming up behind Harry who was sitting in the library hidden away in the Restricted Section, "I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time up in my office please?"

It had been almost two weeks since Harry had been told about the prophecey, and had his new power explained to him. Two weeks since Sirius Black had come 'back from the dead' and had taken up the Defence position as John Evans.

Harry had gotten permission to read through the Restricted Section from Dumbledore and had almost finished it since that time, thanks mostly to his magically enhanced reading and perception skills. His mind was literally thirty times faster than it used to be, which was around ten times faster than Dumbledore. To his -pleasant- surprise, even the books written in another language didn't prove too much of a difficulty to read, although he wasn't able to actually speak those languages, just read them.

He also discovered, to his glee, that his magical core in his mind was constantly increasing the more he used it. He started doing exrecises to get into shape, sculpting for himself a better and stronger body, one where his magical core could grow to it's full potential. Dumbledore had enlisted Kingsley in teaching him Martial Arts, something Harry greatly enjoyed.

It was because of this that he was feeling quite charitable to Dumbledore, and barely harbored any resentment. He was not quick to forget what it felt like to lose Sirius, and sometimes had nightmares of what _could have_ happened, which had brought on his new resolution to get as strong as possible so that it _wont_.

"Of course, Headmaster. Lead the way." Getting up and marking his place in the book, Harry shrunk it and pocketed it before following Dumbledore out of the library and up the many staircases all the while making small talk.

"How are your friends doing?" Dumbledore asked genially.

"Quite well, Ron is almost completely recovered from the affects of the brains, and Hermione has only some scarring which should fade by the end of term." Harry replied, not bothering to mention the reason was that he had helped both. He had used Legilimencey to repair the damage to Ron's brain and remove the knowledge they had dumped into his mind.

Hermione on the other hand would have been much worse, she was after all almost killed by that curse and Madam Pomfrey was only able to do so much, leaving the rest to heal natrually, which would have left her barren. Harry, using his newly gained knowledge on healing spells and of the curse used on Hermione, was able to counteract the magic and heal her back to the way she was before.

Dumbledore nodded his head and commented, "That is very fourtanate indeed. Incidentally, Remus will be by sometime to visit Sirius, while he has been told about him, he has yet to believe it and wants to verify for himself personally."

Harry nodded but didn't bother replying as they had reached the office. The gargoyle, giving a smart bow, quickly swept aside for Dumbledore without the passwrod, something Harry was sure would never happen for anyone else, Headmaster or not.

Following Dumbledore into the office, Harry was immediately attacked by a flying red and gold blur. Fawkes. Harry chuckled as the –fully grown- Phoenix landed on Harry's shoulders and rubbed his head alongside Harry's neck giving a little trill as Harry calmly soothed his feathers.

Sitting down and moving Fawkes to his lap, Harry looked at Dumbledore and waited for him to speak.

"I find I must apologize, Harry." Dumbledore started, causing Harry to roll his eyes, a move which was ignored. "Your life has not been the most pleasant, mostly due to my actions and beliefs."

"You don't have to-

"I wish to make up for it." Dumbledore cut him off, "Give you a... vacation, so to speak."

Harry was confused, "Professor, where would I be able to go without Voldemort butting in."

"You are aware of alternate dimensions?" Dumbledore asked him, sure that he was. He had after all read through over half of the restricted section.

"Yes." Harry said, "For every choice we make, another dimension is created along with the original, one where the opposite was done. Essentially there are millions of dimensions all covering every possible outcome from any choice ever made by any person."

Harry wasn't sure where this was going, and in fact he wasn't even sure if he _wanted_ to know where it was going. He took a shot anyway, "You want me to travel to another dimension?"

Dumbledore beamed at him, "Think about it my boy! No worries, be yourself, do what you want the whole time your there. No one knows who you are. A year with no worries and and no responsibilities."

The idea was very tempting but Harry was concerned, "I don't know, sir. It's an amazing idea on paper, but... I have many things to do here, sir. I can't just drop them and take a year off, maybe after this war is over, and even then, how would it be possible? The theory of multi dimensions is just that, a theory. As far as I have read there have been no actual travelers and no way to travel."

"Time is a wonderful and confusing thing Harry. If you were to, say, go to the closest dimension next to us, you would essentially be travelling diagonally. Going directly to the right or left is impossible because the barriers are completely solid for anyone at a given time.

Now lets say, if you were to travel back in time and then move to the right or left, you would find that the barriers which are so impentrable for everyone else are quite open for you, simply because you wouldn't belong in the timeline, the barrier wouldn't 'know' to block you out. When you return, magic would automatically compensate where you belong, sensing along the barriers to find where there is a block for someone who doesn't exist, and then matching the specifications of the block to you, your age, DNA, magic and so forth up until there is only one block that matches you, before placing you there."

Harry frowned at him for a minute as he puzzled everything he just said out before shaking his head and saying, "You could've just said it's possible, you'll be going back in time a little also, and when you return it will be like no time has passed."

Dumbledore smiled at him, "I could have." He replied, "I enjoy watching kids get confused."

He chuckled as he heard Harry mutter, 'barmy old coot...' before he continued. "Phoenixes are able to travel to these other dimensions, I believe using your rather unique abilities that if Fawkes here were to teach you how to properly flame travel, you will find that you will gain the ability as well."

Harry looked at him astounded, "Are you saying that I will be able to move back in time, I can change the past!?" he was getting more excited as he spoke and Dumbledore firmly shook his head.

"I'm sorry Harry, but no. Technically you would be able to travel back in time, however the same rules and dangers exist as usual, which is why Phoenixes don't like doing it. The difference between going back in time and changing Dimensions, is that there is no danger of you creating a paradox because you don't exist in the other dimension, you will be like a completely diffrent person with no chance of you killing your future/past self."

Harry sighed but nodded and turned back to Fawkes who was still in lap.

"Lo Fawkes." He said softly still stroking him, "What do you say about this crazy plan?"

To his shock, when Fawkes trilled back and warmth flooded him, knowledge once more flooded his mind and he suddenly understood him.

**"It could work fledging. My human has some good plans sometimes. I think this is one of them."**

"uh..." Harry was unsure how to reply to a suddenly talking phoenix, before something caught his atttention, "Your human?" he asked incredulously before turning to Dumbledore while laughing. "Were you aware that Fawkes considers you his?"

Dumbledore adopted a stern look, lightly glaring at Fawkes, as his lips twitched, "I was not, I think the two of us willl have to have a long talk about who owns who over here."

To Harry's amusement, Fawkes glared right back before shifting his gave over to the bowl of Lemon Drops. Dumbledore gave an undignified yelp as his precious Lemon Drops suddenly caught fire. With a quick wave of his wand, which Harry never saw him draw, the fire was out, reaching for another Lemon Drop Harry roared with laughter as the fire sprung up again, and Fawkes turned his back to Dumblebore carefully preening his feathers.

Getting over his amusement, Harry looked down at Fawkes and asked, "Teach me?"

**"Of course, fledging."**

And he was flooded with knowledge.

**A/N:** _Okay, fourth chapter is up, next chapter I think he will travel to new and unexplored worlds. I'm considering sending him to the Dresden Files universe long enough to for him to help out Dresden and for Dresden to teach Harry some new magic tricks. I also have some variations of the Harry Potter universe I want to try out, maybe drop him off in Stargate, (I know I'm obsessed). Talking about Stargate, my other fic, Lt HP SG1 is still on, expect a long chapter, I just need to arrange the fights how I want them, having a little trouble there –eh- whatever. I plan on going through most of Season 1 Episode 1 in that chapter. Anywhoo, hopefully next chapter wont take so long (for this fic) and as usual, any mistakes... let me know I'll take care of it. (Even if there are none you can still let me know your opinion!) Happy Reading!!_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:** Genius Birds?

There was a pop that was similar to apparation, something that had Harry tearing off in its direction with his wand out.

After all something that could apparate into Hogwarts was _not _good.

With a grunt of pain he stopped suddenly as he crashed into someone else sending the both of them to the floor. Quickly getting up and brushing himself off he held out a hand to help the poor guy off the floor only to freeze as he took the boys features; messy black hair, his eyes were closed, but the unmistakable bright red lightning shaped scar was in the center of his forehead.

Suddenly his wand was out again the tip only inches from the stranger's nose he didn't say anything yet for fear of startling the person into doing something rash. Instead he waited, barely breathing with his wand at close quarters.

He watched as his double shook his and muttered about rampaging hippogriffs before opening his eyes that were the same burning emerald as his own.

Contrary to what Harry thought, instead of the eyes opening wide in shock, they gleamed with pleasure and the first words out of the stranger's mouth were "It worked!" as opposed to the "What the _hell_ is going on!" that Harry expected.

His eyes narrowed, this could easily be some stupid plan of either Dumbledore or Voldemort to get someone 'close' to him. His grip on his wand tightened and he decided that a switch in roles may be appropriate –with a slight variation obviously.

"What the _fuck _are you talking about!? Who are you!" he snarled at his clone still sitting on the floor.

The clone's eyes widened as he registered exactly how this may look to someone who had no idea what was happening. He rushed to explain.

"Uh… I'm Harry Potter, in Gryffindor finishing my fifth year, and I'm just taking a vacation." Of course in his rush to explain, he couldn't really explain it quite clearly and Harry's eyes went ice cold as his wand tip, which was still about half an inch from the clones nose, started to glow.

"Nice try shithead. Now if you would kindly answer the question…." His wand tip was now pulsing a sickly green.

Later, our Harry speculated that he should have really considered on how he was going to make first contact with his alternate selves. Really, if someone showed looking exactly like him and claiming to be from an alternate dimension he would have killed them on the spot.

Now however, stuck between a rock and a hard spot, he did the only thing he could think of. His wand was raised he spoke forcefully, "I Harry James Potter Swear on my Magic…." He broke off as the curse that had been waiting on his alternate self's wand was released.

With wide eyes he ducked knowing he couldn't create a shield as he was in the middle of making a magical oath. He was forced to duck three more times before he was able to complete his sentence, "-that I am Harry James Potter from another dimension." The wave of magic that followed and sealed the vow, recognizing it as true forced Harry to stop firing at the clone and look at him suspiciously.

"Alright…" He said grudgingly, "I'll listen to what you have to say."

With that, seventeen year old Harry Potter dressed in Ravenclaw robes grabbed the fifteen year old Gryffindor clad Harry Potter and shoved him into the closest classroom, slamming the door behind him and carelessly throwing up over a hundred privacy charms with a lazy flick of his wand.

"Talk!" he growled at him.

**A\N: Okay, finally this chapter is a short one unfortunately, however with work and writing the SG1 crossover it's all I can manage. Hopefully it won't be so long till the next one. It's currently 1AM here so I haven't gone over this chapter with a fine tooth-comb, you will most probably notice quite a few mistakes. Please let me know as you find them.**

**Good night!**


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